((Joey continued from It Was Fear of Myself...))There are only four of you left, and it's time to whittle that down to one...

Joey snapped to attention. Four people left. Quickly identified as Zubin, Himself, Hansel, and Mara. He paid no attention to the brief description of himself. He was busy focusing on other things. He knew that Hansel and Mara had killed. He had seen Mara recently. She looked like she'd stepped out of a warzone, and likely she would be ready to go right back in.

Hansel's name had been mentioned so many times over the time spent here that it had become second nature to hear the familiar greeting voice, followed by Hansel's name.

Zubin. Zubin was a mystery. What had happened since the school building? Joey couldn't recall Zubin being announced as a killer. Maybe he just bailed from a bad situation. Either way, if Joey ran into Zubin before the other two, he'd have to be on alert.

"Or maybe all three of them would kill each other? That'd be nice. I could stroll into the park to find out I've won." Joey's under breath muttering was laced with the slightest hint of sarcasm.

"Good luck. Oh, and remember: you need to score at least one kill if you don't want to star in the next act of our continuing drama. That means you, Grey and Wadia."

Joey stopped dead in his tracks. His mind began racing. His memory was trying to jog itself. Then he remembered. Last year, there was a news report that said the Kimberly girl had come very close to not being released. This terrorist group had a rule that if someone did not kill and won, they would be thrown back into a future game.

He'd have to kill someone. No matter what, he would have to take one of the three lives left to take.

Joey looked down at his weapons, both of them lay together on the ground to his right. They were great weapons. They would have been even greater in a different person's hands. However, he was bringing knives to a gunfight. Joey had had a horseshoe up his ass to this point. He was praying that the horseshoe was inscribed with clovers and best friends with a rabbit's foot. It would be his only chance.

As Joey neared the boundary line of the brush to the park, he heard a shot ring out. His heart began racing to the point that he was pretty certain the audience would hear it. The shot sounded like it came from the other side of the park. Joey moved along the brush line, trying to get a better view. He couldn't see enough of the park to determine where anyone else was.

This was it. He'd have to venture out. Joey unzipped his bag and finished off what little was left in his water. He left the bag on the ground. There would be no need for it.

Using the sword in his left hand, Joey pushed back some of the foliage and moved a cautious few steps into the perimeter of the park. The pounding in his chest was deafening, but for the first time since he woke up all those days ago, Joey felt ready for what was about to happen.